Chapter 1: Maplefur

There were many reasons that Maplefur accepted the task of nursing this strange kit back to health when Whitefeather brought him to her. One of those reasons was that Whitefeather was one of the very few cats in BoulderClan that Maplefur did not consider a berry-brain. She had strong convictions about the welfare of all cats, regardless of what Clan they belonged to, which was very much not unlike the ideals that medicine cats are taught during their apprenticeship. A warrior who saw above the divisive nature of Clan borders was very rare, and Maplefur had a deep respect for her as a result.

The most compelling reason, however, that Maplefur had accepted this duty, was simply because it would be a challenge, and she so dearly did love a challenge. When the kit had first been delivered to her, he was just barely clinging onto life, and it was clear from the moment she saw him that the chances of that poor scrap making it through the night were tragically slim. Despite that, Maplefur had predicted that six suns would rise and fall before he would make a full recovery, and although no cat was keeping count, she held herself to that time frame more so to test her own abilities.

Maplefur had seasons worth of experience at her disposal, and she'd used what she knew well. On the first day she bound sticks to his front paw with bindweed for his damaged front leg, rubbed her own special poultice into his superficial wounds to ward off infection, and coated an assortment of bitter tasting herbs in honey for a wide array of ailments she suspected he had from being left out in the rain in leafbare. When the kit had arrived, he was not strong enough to eat, and so Maplefur had to chew the herbs herself before she fed them to him. The task was quite the labor for the medicine cat, but she treated the duty like her own personal project, and by the end of the first day she'd already noticed a significant improvement in his health.

Dawn of the second day had just barely begun when Maplefur was jarred awake by several sets of footsteps charging into her den, talking over each other frantically and crowding the medicine cat. There were far too many cats crammed into the den as it was, and they trampled the carefully sorted herbs she'd collected while also bumping into the two nests on the far side of the den that belonged to Dewpaw and her newest patient. Dewpaw started awake, her eyes wide and alert. The kit shifted in his own nest, frowning in his sleep and crying out in a feeble mew. Maplefur guessed that one of the warriors had bumped into him, aggravating his injuries.

A flash of irritation surged through the tortoiseshell. She flattened her ears and silenced the cats with an angry hiss. "Out. Now."

With no cat wanting to incur the medicine cat's wrath, the warriors quickly backed out of the medicine den without a word. She followed them, tail lashing furiously behind her. When they were all outside of the base of the hollowed oak, she strode up to the tabby leading the patrol, Cedarfall, and growled. "With that berry-brained stunt you just pulled, some cat had better be dying."

Cedarfall met her gaze unflinching. "Crowstar has been gravely injured and we fear he may be losing a life. Is that important enough for you?"

All the anger had drained out of Maplefur in an instant. "How in StarClan-"

"Rogues ambushed our patrol at the border," he responded quickly. It sounded rehearsed, and Maplefur decided then that she didn't believe him.

"Where is he now?" Dewpaw asked.

"Stoneclaw carried him back to his den." The deputy turned quickly and beckoned them to follow with his tail. "He collapsed before we made it through the entrance. You'll need to hurry."

They all headed for Crowstar's den on the other side of camp, a narrow crack in a sheer rock face. The entrance was only big enough for one cat to go through at a time. Before any cat could get through, Maplefur blocked the entrance with her tail. "Any cat who is not dying may excuse themselves now. Thank you."

Several cats bristled at this, but none crossed Maplefur. They backed away and retreated to the warriors' den without argument. That just left Cedarfall, Dewpaw, and herself. They slithered in one by one, and on the far side of the den they found Crowstar lying on his side, ribs jutting out at unnatural angles. His chest looked as if it had been caved in, and his breathing was labored and ragged. The den reeked of blood, and the tom could be heard emitting soft grunts with every exhale. Maplefur suspected trauma in his lungs and much, much more.

She approached Crowstar to appraise his injuries from up close. His fur was ragged, and several droplets of blood lay scattered around the floor of the den. He had been coughing up blood, it seemed. She listed the herbs she would need to treat him, and with a nod Dewpaw was off to retrieve them. When her apprentice was gone, Maplefur leaned in close to Crowstar and narrowed her eyes. "What happened to you?"

"Those… fox-hearts… attacked us on our own land…" He struggled between gasps, his claws flexing. Maplefur could tell he was in a great deal of pain. "They were… on their way to camp… We cut them off… before they could reach… the entrance…"

Maplefur's ear twitched. Cedarfall had told her something different. "Wow, and no cat heard you? That must have been the quietest battle in the history of the Clans."

Maplefur could feel Cedarfall's eyes burning into her from behind. He knew that Maplefur could see through their lies, but still he remained silent.

When Dewpaw returned, she was carrying far too many herbs on a leaf that was much too small, and many of them fell to the ground as she scrambled over to Maplefur. The medicine cat patiently picked up the herbs from the ground and brought them to Crowstar. He parted his jaws meekly, and the berries went in. Only then did his breathing relax.

"What did that do?" asked Cedarfall, who watched from afar.

Maplefur looked at Dewpaw, who paused for a moment to remember. "They're relaxants, I think."

The deputy's eyes widened. "How on earth is that going to help him recover?"

"It's not," Maplefur responded evenly. "Their purpose is to help him feel no pain."

"Have you got bees in your brain? Help him! Your leader is dying!"

Maplefur shook her head. "His injuries are internal, you berry-brain. There's nothing more I can do for him unless you'd like to crawl into his mouth and work on him from the inside."

Her tone was nothing short of blase. She had been healing cats long enough to know when she could save them and when she couldn't. The deputy's tail lashed furiously, but he bit his tongue. He, just like every other cat, knew there was no use arguing with Maplefur. She was glad that he had more sense than to challenge her.

Suddenly, as if on cue, Crowstar's body convulsed violently, and after breathing one last ragged breath, the air filling his lungs slowly seeped out past his teeth. His eyes glazed over and suddenly, the den was quiet. Dewpaw and Maplefur exchanged a meaningful look. Crowstar was dead.

Cedarfall bowed his head out of respect, but Maplefur was trying to remember how many lives the leader had lost. She was sure that this was his eighth, which meant that he could sustain only one more death before he was to join StarClan for good.

"What now?" asked Dewpaw. She'd seen cats die before, but never a leader.

"Now we wait. His wounds will heal on their own."

It was then that Maplefur had noticed that Cedarfall was gone. She assumed he had left to tell Whitefeather what had happened. Dewpaw, however, was waiting for Crowstar to awaken with wide eyes, staring down his lifeless body as if she might miss it if she blinked. Maplefur decided she should probably get her out of the den while it happened. "Fetch me some water," she said simply. With a nod and a bound, the apprentice was gone again.

She waited wordlessly for what felt like moons before the black tom began to stir once more. Watching a leader come back to life was truly a remarkable thing; it shouldn't be possible on any physical level, and yet, those blank, unfocused green eyes were sharp once again, slitted and crackling with rage. Slowly, the leader's chest had begun to revert back to its natural form. The sound of a pained gasp filled the air. When he finally caught his breath, the tom hissed and slammed his paw down onto the cold cave floor. "That was my eighth."

"I know," she replied. "How did this happen?"

The question was asked the way a mother would ask her kit if she already knew the answer. Crowstar searched her eyes to gauge her expression, but found nothing. As always, she was perfectly unreadable. "I already told you, we were attacked. Those rogues overpowered us."

Again, Maplefur's ear twitched. "With those injuries? Great StarClan, were you fighting cats or horses?!"

At this comment, Crowstar's gaze had broken from Maplefur's. It finally dawned on her what had been done. The mottled feline's lip curled back into a snarl, unable to hide her disgust. "You tried to raid Horseplace with your warriors last night, didn't you? And then what, you got trampled?"

Crowstar's fur began to rise with indignance. "What, are you going to make me clean ticks off the elders as punishment? Make me change moss?" He met her challenging stare with a defiant one. "Don't you forget, I'm your leader and we are at war. What I choose to do with my warriors or my lives is none of your concern."

The medicine cat scoffed. "I never thought in all my days that I would outlive two leaders in my lifetime."

At this point, Dewpaw had returned with a ball of moss that was soaked in water in her maw. She seemed unaware of the confrontation that was ensuing as she set the moss down in front of Crowstar, turning back to her mentor and finally realizing that she was glaring at him with looks that could set the whole forest ablaze.

"Oh, Dewpaw, I'm glad you're back," said Maplefur. The sarcasm in her tone was thicker than molasses. "I was just wondering, When Cedarfall becomes leader of BoulderClan, do you think he will eagerly throw all nine lives away just as fast as Crowstar? Or do you think he will only die sparingly, and save me the trouble of having to waste my herbs on another old, dirty lump of fur who thinks he knows everything?"

"Watch your tongue, Maplefur," Crowstar replied. He rarely had to issue warnings of this magnitude.

Dewpaw, who was caught completely off guard by this exchange, stammered for a response. "O-oh, um… Uh…"

Maplefur did not wait for her reply. She whirled around and shouldered her way out of the den with a single movement. "Let's go, Dewpaw."

The black-and-white apprentice cast her leader an apologetic glance before slithering out of the den once more to catch up with her mentor, who was still very obviously seething over what happened. "That berry-brained, fox-hearted, flea-ridden scoundrel!" Her claws were unsheathed and digging up clumps of dirt as she went by. The sun was already up, and cats were beginning to emerge from their dens now. She hissed at anyone who stared after her as she passed. "I swear to you, Dewpaw, if that kit survives I will never allow him to become one of these false-hearted cats we call warriors."

She spoke with such conviction that Dewpaw knew she meant it. The trouble with Maplefur's convictions was that when she set her mind to something, there was little any cat could do to stop her, even Crowstar himself. The apprentice sighed. This feud was far from over.

I've gotta say, I was really tempted to say "thicker than a bowl of oatmeal" toward the end there.